The Fairest One of All
by The Apocalypse Lock
Summary: Severus spends his nights in longing before the Mirror of Erised. When Albus decides to move it, Severus is only too eager for the opportunity to help guard it. However, how will these nights of lost dreams take a toll on his mentality? SPOILERS
1. Chapter One: Arrival

Title: The Fairest One of All  
Author: GeneSeph (deviantART) or The Apocalypse Lock (), otherwise known as Skai.  
Rating: T (may change later)  
Status: In Progress  
Genre: Angst/Romance  
Warnings: Minor language and sensitive themes (self-mutilation later on in the fic)  
Summary: Severus spends his nights in longing before the Mirror of Erised. When Albus decides to move it, Severus is only too eager for the opportunity to help guard it. However, how will these nights of lost dreams take a toll on his mentality?

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Chapter One : Arrival

Severus' face was set in a scowl. "Why here?" he demanded curtly. His shoes clicked loudly on the stone floor as he sped up. The elderly man was able to quickly match his pace, unfortunately. "Can it not be held somewhere else that is equally as protected?"

Albus shook his head slowly. "I'm afraid not. Severus, you know well that Hogwarts is as safe a place as any." He tilted his head, glancing at the Potions professor through beady eyes and half-moon spectacles.

"I won't stand for this." Without realizing where his feet had led him, Severus opened the door. He slowed gradually to a stop, all emotion evaporating from his face and dark eyes. "I... want it out of here."

"I can't do that, Severus." The headmaster fell into place beside him.

"What if a student finds it?" argued Severus. "All the students will wish to see it if this gets out."

"Until then, it is fine here." Albus frowned at the mirror. "No need to fret."

Gazing over the cool, reflective glass, Severus was momentarily frozen. "What do you see?"

"That depends. Will you tell me what you see in return?"

A small sigh of defeat escaped Severus' throat. "No."

Albus gave a soft, reassuring smile. "Then I will not tell you either. You should learn to open up to people."

And what? Sob about his childhood and moan about the empty feeling deep in his chest? Cry his damn eyes out only to be told what a sick, twisted man he really was?

"I'll keep that in mind," he answered drolly, though his sarcasm was clear. He turned his back to the mirror, keeping his calm composure as well as he could. "Why me?" he asked of the great wizard.

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Have you shown the other professors and faculty?"

Albus gave him a worried, sheepish look. However, he answered truthfully, "No."

"Why have you shown me, then?" He began to leave the mostly empty room, heading back in the direction of the library.

"Severus, I sometimes get the feeling that you are not grateful for what you have."

"I have no idea what you mean," Severus scoffed, rapidly growing tired of this conversation.

"You have a very dangerous job, and yet you still have your life. You have more courage than any man I've seen in all of my years." Albus placed a hand on Severus' shoulder.

Shrugging it off, the greasy-haired man rolled his eyes. "What are you getting at?"

"Heroes could use a break occasionally."

That was enough. Severus grabbed his employer by the front of the robes roughly. "Don't call me that," he snarled. "I'm no hero." It was true. He had failed to be a hero twelve years ago.

Headmaster Dumbledore showed no fear. He softly pried Severus' hands from his robes. "As you wish."


	2. Chapter Two: Torture

Chapter Two: Torture

The stone was cool against his cheek. He inhaled deeply, resisting the urge to vomit nervously. It fought with his stomach, and he briefly considered brewing a potion to calm it a bit. Perhaps he would visit the mirror again later, just to finally get his mind off of it.

"Severus," a familiar voice projected from the doorway. "The Sorting will begin soon."

"I have no desire to attend," he rasped.

"Albus warned such would be your response. He requests your attendance in apology for your earlier argument."

After a few moments of her standing patiently at the door, Severus heaved a large sigh. "Thank you, Minerva. I shall be up momentarily." He heard her heels click out of the dungeon.

Stowing his wand in the pocket, Severus buttoned the black sleeves of his shirt and pulled on his half-sleeved cloak, managing to stand up. He was in no hurry to get upstairs, however, the old man was more impatient than most people assumed him to be, and he knew Minerva would be back to retrieve him if he did not show up soon.

He pushed through the faculty door behind the staff table, avoiding the eyes of the many students as he took his seat at the table.

The Sorting began, and Severus paid little attention to the names being called. He did look up momentarily as he heard a "Draco Malfoy" being called. Lucius had not informed him that his son would be starting his first year.

More and more names were called, more students sorted. Among them, one "Hermione Granger" that Severus had no idea would be so obnoxious until the very next day.

And then, he heard it. The voice rang clear throughout the Great Hall, and a silence overcame everyone within it.

"Harry Potter."

Not only did Quirrel, to his right, snap his head forward to watch the boy step forward, but Severus did as well, that sickening sensation overcoming him once more.

He watched intently, gritting his teeth as the boy sat down on the chair. His hair jet black and a disaster like his father's… but something about him was a reminder of…

"_Gryffindor!_"

The boy hopped off the chair, grinning as the Gryffindor table roared in applause.

Severus knew. The boy's eyes twinkled with overjoyed laughter… Just like his mother's.

The Potions master glared towards the center of the table as Quirrel chatted excitedly at him. Was this Albus' way of apologizing? By forcing him to see this? To sit through what was sure to be pure agony?

"Quirrel, quiet," he snapped, turning to the odd DADA professor. If he wasn't careful, he would blow the Dark Lord's cover. And if he did, they would both have the fate of death hanging over their heads.

He glanced at Harry once more, and this time the child saw. His eyes lingered for a moment, both terrific hate and illogical love brewing within him. More so hate, and Severus tasted bile, swallowing hard. He narrowed his eyes and turned to his right as Quirrel began talking again, this time about his position.

"It's better that I got the post, anyways," he commented darkly. "Maybe this time next year, after our Lord has won the war, you can have my job." The man gave a harsh laugh.

"Quirrel, another word and I'll use the Imperius curse to make you shut your damn mouth. And _he _won't object."

Quirrel frowned and turned back to his food.

Severus proceeded to pick at his meal, not having an appetite in the least bit.

After a while, the feast ended and the prefects were left to guide the new students to their common rooms and dormitories. Most of the staff filed out of the Hall to their respective chambers to retire or to their classrooms in preparation for tomorrow's lessons. Severus Snape, Albus Dumbledore, and Minerva McGonagall stayed seated at the table.

Severus stared down at his plate, gripping his fork tightly as he pushed the now non-existent food around on it (the leftovers had already been summoned back to the kitchens where they had come from to begin with). He had nothing to say to the old man, nor did he wish to bed so soon. It was approximately nine o'clock, and he still had much on his mind.

Minerva and Albus spoke in hushed tones, undoubtedly about him. He pondered if Albus had told Minerva about their earlier discussion in its entirety. He knew that Albus confided greatly in the Transfiguration professor, but he was unsure as to whether he would trust even her with such vital information.

Vital information because if it was leaked, Severus' world would crumble around him. Others would become worried. Things never meant to be mentioned would slip out, and eventually word would get to Quirrel, and thus, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Name. And if that happened, the Dark Lord would surely force his way into Severus' mind, no matter the actions necessary to do so, and pry the secrets held deep within his withering heart out, as well as the information that he was a spy.

Severus was well trained in Occlumency. If the Dark Lord wanted quick information from Severus' mind, he could get it without learning of Severus' double-agency. However, if he used a great amount of force and torture…

Severus has suffered the demon's Cruciatus curse before, but Voldemort considered Snape an asset. He needed him greatly, and therefore never meant enough harm to kill him or twist him. He could only imagine what would happen if the soul-severed man decided he was disposable.

"Severus," the elderly man greeted, now up from his seat and walking towards him. "I hope you saw what I intended."

His mouth when dry and he tried to swallow, but couldn't. His lip rose in a slight sneer. "The Potter boy? Just like his father. Arrogant, as well, I presume."

"And yet, just as intelligent as his mother, I would guess," Albus agreed as Minerva left the two to converse quietly. Though the discussion was soft, it seemed to echo and reverberate off of the walls in the dining hall.

"Please," Severus drawled. "I highly doubt anyone with as much fame as that boy could have a head that wasn't swollen with ego enough to actually know something of worth."

"Maybe you'll perceive things differently after your first class with him. Double-Potions, I do believe, tomorrow."

"Double-Potions on the first day of the year. Whoever thought of that idea was simply _itching _to torture all within the classroom, weren't they?" Torture. That word was becoming so frequent in his mind these days.

Albus chuckled lightly, a heartening sound to those who weren't Severus. "I believe it was _your _idea. What was it you said? Oh yes, I believe you told Minerva, 'If your House cannot learn to cooperate with mine, how will they learn to deflate their big heads and realize that they are _not _better than everyone else?' You brought it upon yourself in an effort to teach your students 'cooperation.'" He winked, a smile on his face.

Severus shook his head. "I do not have time for technicalities. If you will excuse me, I think I would like to catch some sleep before tomorrow." He really was dreading it, but for a different reason than Double-Potions with the first year Gryffindors and Slytherins.

"You are excused," the headmaster granted politely, watching as the pale, black-clad man stood and strode from the Hall.


	3. Chapter Three: Decisions

Chapter Three: Decisions

He sank onto the soft mattress, running a hand through his oily hair. Today was just becoming too difficult. So many thoughts raced through his head in fast-forward. His head ached with an intensity higher than usual.

Severus continued to sit for only a few more moments. He then dragged himself to his feet and pulled a small cauldron out from under his nightstand. He opened a brown cabinet set into the stone wall and withdrew several jars filled with various herbs and whatnot. He set each one on a table, organized carefully in a neat row in the order which he would need them. Moss, marjoram, lemon, rosemary, potato, ginger root, Butterbur, and peppermint.

Right away, he filled the cauldron with water and (surprisingly) tea. He lit the cauldron to let the water-tea mixture heat.

With skilled hands, he quickly ground the dried moss into a fine powder in his mortar and pestle. He added a small quantity of marjoram into the moss. A pewter knife also found in the cupboard was used to separate three lemon slices from the rest, and he squeezed the juice of these into the moss and marjoram.

Letting that sit, Severus pulled the rosemary towards the pot, estimating how much was in the jar with hazy thoughts and then simply dumping the remainder into the cauldron. Using a separate dagger from the lemon one (this one was constructed of silver), he carefully cut the potato in half, replacing one half in the jar and extracting the juice from the other into the cauldron.

At this time, he added the lemon-soaked plant powder into the boiling cauldron before moving to the next task.

Using the silver dagger again, he diced the ginger root and added that to the pot. He eyed the depleting jar of Butterbur and frowned. His personal stock would be gone after this. What he was growing in his personal garden was now completely harvested. The only other place it was known to grow was in Germany. He would have to contact an acquaintance to restore it. He added it to the cauldron, stirring it clockwise three times and then counterclockwise twice. Finally, he dropped the peppermint leaves in.

The potion fizzed slightly, then flashed a blinding white before settling to a thin, deep blue.

Oddly, the seemingly plain combination of ingredients stunk to the high heavens. However, Severus was quite used to this by now, and he used his wand to ladle it into a large chalice. He refused to inhale the stench as he gulped it down; the taste was bland in comparison.

Within moments, the headache was cleared. However, the other pain, the one that had been nagging at the back of his mind, then crashed, the sensation like a sheet of glass put up against the Whomping Willow—disastrous.

Harry was here at Hogwarts.

Harry _Potter_ was here at Hogwarts.

His entire life was dependent on decisions. Small ones—like the decision of how much rosemary to add to a headache-healing potion, the decision of how much Butterbur to order, and the decision of what to eat for breakfast.

And the larger ones, too. His decision to call her a Mudblood. His decision to become a Death Eater. His decision to reveal the prophecy to Voldemort. His decision to become a spy for Dumbledore. His decision to protect the boy.

This decision was his hardest yet, but he knew the answer.

Rushing to the door, Severus lifted his robes off the coat hook, hastily shoving his arms through the holes as he slammed the door behind him. His footsteps were hushed even on the stone floors, his small, hurried steps instinctively guiding him. He held no regard even for mischief-makers out of bed on the premier night of their first term.

Up the marble staircase, down several halls and up to the library…

He was almost there.

Slipping silently into the library, softly closing the door behind him…

There was barely meters between them.

Through the restricted section and now the final door…

He locked the door behind himself, and with a gasp of exasperation and a sigh of relief, he placed a hand on the mirror.

"Lily," he croaked. "Lily, I'm here…"

Author's Note: As of now, I'd like to thank the following people for their excellent and encouraging reviews, favorites, story alerts, and author alerts: Going Up, Excessivelyperky, Blondebunny55, An Uninteresting Name, Kaktusas87, Icecharmz, Very Small Prophet, Mooney93, and RedEyed Wolf-2nd. :3 The first people to like this story! Also, I'd like to thank Very Small Prophet one more time, because your review made me laugh so hard and made me immediately start writing chapter 2. Indeed, Dumbledore seems not to understand that he's making matters worse.

As this is my first _good_ Harry Potter fanfiction (or so I think. I may rewrite a better version of my other one), I am very grateful at how successful I have found it to be so far.

I'd also like to thank Joanne Rowling for creating such an outstanding series. With over 400,000 fanfictions and 100,000 crossover fictions, I hope she's proud of the world she has created for us. Potternerds unite!

If I spoiled anything for any people reading this, I apologize, I should have put that in the summary. :I If you haven't read all of the books by now, though, _shame on you._

The last person I'd like to thank is Regann. Her fanfiction Heart Over Mind has made me fall into an even deeper love with Severus Snape—which I had thought to be impossible. It _is_ a Snape/Hermione fic, but it is hands down the most amazing fanfiction I have ever read. And, it has instilled within me a new favorite pairing, even moreso than Snape/Lily.

One final note, the ingredients in Snape's headache-ridding are thanks to Google. I searched "folk remedies for headaches." Some are for sinus headaches and some for migraines, but let's just say that our beloved Potions master doesn't know what kind of headache he's got.

If there is anything confusing about my fanfiction, please, _please_ let me know. I apologize for the short chapters, I feel them necessary.

I love all of my fans!

-Sky, AKA The Apocalypse Lock


	4. Chapter Four: Term Start

Author's Note: Yay, author's note in the beginning this time. :D I'd like to thank another wonderful fanfic writer, beautiful innuendo. Her SSHG fics make me cry and laugh and all sorts of things that I can't even explain. SSHG in general has totally and completely weirdly brought me out of my depression, haha. So go read her fics, especially her newest one, In the Ashes. And this is probably pointless to be telling my viewers, since you guys are probably SSLE shippers, pfft. Since this fic is SSLE and all.

I'd also like to say:

I'm trying to update as fast as possible! I just had a LOT of trouble with this chapter, not knowing where to start it. Chapter 5 is already laid out in my mind. So if I'm not fast enough for you guys, please don't eat my face!

Anything you may recognize is not mine :D

Chapter 4: Term Start

The day was off to a nasty start already. He had stayed up far too late and awoken much too early.

He had arranged the lesson plan for today at three o'clock a.m., having only gotten an hour of sleep. He originally thought he had already prepared it, but learned otherwise. He had then set up the classroom and proceeded to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Severus, how kind of you to join us!" Albus chirped as the dark-clad man trudged into the room.

"Nngh," Severus replied without an upward glance. He sank into his seat beside Obnoxious Quirrel and Voldemort.

"How was your night?" the headmaster asked. "I hope it was pleasant."

Severus finally shot a nasty glare the old man's direction. If looking at someone could kill them, Dumbledore would have been dead on the spot. Unfortunately for Severus, it couldn't.

Snape proceeded through his first few classes with little difficulty or annoyance. Then came that dreaded double potions with the first years.

He lifted the paper for attendance and began listing off names.

He paused as he reached the Potter boy's name, that horrid taste of stomach acid threatening to make a reappearance. He kept his face blank for his own sake.

"Ah, yes," he uttered. "Harry Potter. Our new – _celebrity_." He didn't glance up from the paper as he finished calling roll, then promptly began his lesson.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making." He was quiet, which in turn effectively kept the class quiet and on the edge of their seats, trying to hear. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…"

Severus was thinking of a different beauty altogether, not really the one of the art of potions. While that was certainly beautiful, his mind was momentarily elsewhere.

He brought himself back to the class. "I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach," he added harshly.

There was a long silence, and he turned sharply to Harry. "Potter! What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

He watched with a grim satisfaction the blank stare on Harry's face, while the girl beside him flung her hand into the air.

"I don't know sir," the boy said.

"Tut, tut," he sneered. "Fame clearly isn't everything. Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Again, the blank look and the annoying girl just itching to hop out of her seat and answer.

The boy admitted he did not know once more.

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?" Just like his father. Arrogant, dim-witted. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

The Granger girl did actually stand this time, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know. I think Hermione does, though, why don't you try her?"

Severus pursed his lips. He waved a hand at the Granger girl. "Sit down. For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite." The students all stared with the same expression, and Severus rolled his eyes. How thick were they? "Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

As the students rustled through their bags for quills, parchment, and their books, Severus added, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor House for your cheek, Potter." If only he had been a professor when Potter's father was here. He would have relentlessly taken huge sums of house points away.

He continued the class, starting them out with a simple potion to cure boils. If wrongly done, it could cause boils instead.

Of course, someone had to do it wrong. That dense Longbottom boy. Longbottom, indeed, Severus in frustration. He sent Longbottom to the Hospital Wing with Finnigan, then turned his wrath to the two working beside Neville – Harry and Ron Weasley.

"You – Potter – why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost from Gryffindor."

He watched with an almost hungry, predator-like expression, waiting for the opportunity to take away more points. Potter opened his mouth, then shut it quickly.

Severus turned his back to the children, a small smile on his lips. Potter was learning his place quickly.

When the class was aborted, Severus left the classroom and paid a visit to his chambers for another headache-healing potion (he had owl-ordered an overnight shipment of Butterbur in bulk and was now well stocked). He knew that tonight he should probably get some sleep, but he also had good knowledge that he wouldn't be. Unless Albus had moved it, but he highly doubted it.

After the usual Friday afternoon break, he had one final class. He ended up taking fifty points from Gryffindor when Fred and George Weasley for tricking a Slytherin classmate into melting a cauldron.

_That is the second one today, _Severus had thought in annoyance.

The stiff man really had no aspiration to again present himself to Dumbledore on a silver platter at dinner. That was all he would be doing. Giving the elderly, peculiar man an excuse to toy with him. So he skipped out on supper, simple as that.

Instead, he did as he had the previous night. Of course he would. Given the chance, who would not take the opportunity to be happy, if but for a small period of time? Given the chance, who wouldn't take the time to fulfill their dreams, even if they still were just beyond reality's grasp?

Seeing the boy today had changed, literally, everything. How Albus expected him to continue to protect the boy was astounding. And yet… It had been a vow. Not only to Albus, but to himself. To Lily. And damned if Severus would let a promise to Lily go broken.


	5. Chapter Five: Masochism

Author's Note: Yeah, another one, hate to bug you guys. Eventually I'll stop doing these I think, unless I need help with something or feel the need to mention another reviewer, author, or fanfiction. I still say go read Heart Over Mind by Regann and In the Ashes by beautiful innuendo for you Sev/'Mione shippers.

OH. 'Fore I forget. I dedicate this to my bestest friend that I never get to talk to anymore, Elisabeth. Even though I'm not her bestest friend, she's mine :3 I was writing her a different fanfiction, and then I was writing that one AND this one, but then I decided to write her just this one and make the other a Sev/'Mione fic. Shaddup, I know I'm obsessed. SSLE will still be my favorite, though.

Also. Teacher-studenty. Ha. Don't you just love my OOC grammar?

I totally rewrote this chapter twice, sorry it took me so long. D':

EDIT: Oops. I think I screwed some stuff up chronologically earlier. Think I put 12 or 13 years since James and Lily died. In reality, it would only be 10, I think. Because they were killed when Harry was 1, and he's now 11 or some such shite. I don't even know what I've written anymore =_= Ffff. And Quirrell's name is always spelled different because I see so many different spellings of both his first and last name. So shaddup, it's not my fault |D

Chapter Five : Masochism

"It's good to see you again, Severus," the man with platinum-blond hair greeted, gesturing welcomingly to the loveseat against the wall. "It has been too long."

The Potions Master sank into the seat begrudgingly, though he didn't show his dislike. "Lucius," he said with a curt nod. The man had become even more arrogant and annoying than he had been as a teenager. He genuinely did begin to wonder why he made friends with such people. If only he had been less blind back then.

"Do you come as a friend or an informant?" Lucius asked, wondering whether he should shut the door to the adjoining dining room, where Narcissa was speaking with a friend.

"Neither," Severus replied. "I come as a professor."

Lucius nodded, sitting in a high-backed black armchair across the room. "I see. You come bearing good news about Draco's intelligence, I'm sure?"

This man was more cavalier than Severus could have imagined. Of course, any son of his was bound to do excellent in just about every area, correct? "Once again, I'm afraid not. Bad news, rather." 

"Nonsense," Lucius protested in disbelief. "Unless another student somehow hindered his ability to do work, I cannot see Draco failing in any circumstance."

Though Draco was his godson, Severus did not particularly like the boy at all, merely rewarded him handsomely in class for anything he did to upset or trouble Potter and his friends. He had come here to tell Lucius exactly what was going on with his rat-faced son, if only to provoke him.

"Lucius, I regret to inform you that your son, my godson, is no prodigy." He could see the red rising in the easily-angered man's face already. "He's not exceptionally bright, nor does he even attempt to do his work properly."

Malfoy rose to his feet. "If all you've come to do is ridicule my son and my family name, you may leave now, Severus."

But he wasn't finished, not until he had achieved what he had come for. He took note of the tall mirror in the corner of the room. It would do nicely for the job. "No, I just came to let you know that even a Muggle-born is outshining him in his academics."

That did it. Lucius lunged, his wand flicking out and a beam of red shooting forth. Severus deflected it with easy, expecting it. Lucius had moved into just the right position.

"_Sectumsempra!_" The egotistical man leapt out of the way just in time, and the mirror behind him shattered, the spell rebounding back and hitting Severus square in the chest. Pain ripped through his every muscle and the gashes appeared, quickly beginning to bleed before Lucius could even react. But the show had to go on. He couldn't drop the act now. "Damn you, Malfoy!" he cursed, staggering towards the fireplace he had come from. "We'll see what sort of grades Draco gets now," he spat, and with a handful of powder and a flash of green flames, Severus was gone.

He was back in his office, and he fell back into the chair, staring up unpleasantly at the ceiling. It hurt. Oh, it hurt. But it relieved him of a different pain. The one that scathed him much further than the flesh. The one that had been aching at him for ten years.

He could almost imagine Lily's reaction to what he had just done. _"Sev, are you crazy?" _she would have screamed. "Just a tad," he replied to no one but himself, his voice laced with irony. He closed his eyes, basking in the pain and the lack of pain that contradicted each other and gave him peace.

He was growing very tired. Memories—not hurtful ones, but pleasant ones, though he had very few—fluttered in and out of focus beneath his eyelids.

"Severus?" he heard very faintly.

"Yes, Lily?" he mumbled in response.

"Severus! Filius, fetch Madam Pomfrey immediately!"


	6. Chapter Six: Informed

A/N: Sorry, another short chapter. But it's necessary. Next few chapters should be longer.

In other news, I have two new HP fics on the way. I started "Obsidian Fire" and posted what's written so far, look on my page. And I've got some untitled thing in mind, a "second chance" fic about Sev and Lily, with a lot of awesome plottage in there, including awesome stuff with Regulus Black.

Saw DH Part 1.

Things that annoyed me: Harry didn't find the first half of his mom's letter to Sirius in Sirius's old room (because that means my favorite/the saddest scene of part 2 probably won't be in there); The fact that there were no Muggle posters of motorcycles or bikini-clad women on Sirius's walls like there was supposed to be; They changed what the locket showed Ron, which kind of irks me because it seemed much more touching and appropriate in the book; The fact that Grindelwald is played by the dude who played Antony in Sweeney Todd. OH. And that there were no white peacocks in Lucius's yard.

That's all. Thanks for putting up with me, guys.

Severus had awoken to a grumpy start in the Hospital Wing, but no one had suspected his wounds were self-inflicted, so everything had gone as planned.

The first thing he had to do this morning was go see Lily. Forget breakfast, forget teaching. He was sure his students would be plenty glad to get the day off. However, before he could even get out of bed, the Headmaster came in to greet him (much to his displeasure).

"Severus! Good morning, I was wondering if you had left yet. I am quite glad I caught you."

His face going tight-lipped and pale, Severus said nothing in response.

"I have some news that may upset you. After Christmas, we will be moving the Mirror of Erised," Albus informed him regretfully. "It will be under great protection. The same protection as the Stone."

So it was true. Nicholas Flamel's stone of immortality was here at Hogwarts. Safely tucked away where Voldemort would never reach it, where he could never create the Elixir of Life.

He pretended to be indifferent. "Will Flamel still be using it while it is under protection here?" he asked flatly.

"The Stone? No. Unfortunately, Nicholas Flamel is done brewing his Elixir of Life. But it is all for a good purpose. To prevent Voldemort from returning."

Severus cringed slightly at the use of the Dark Lord's name. During Voldemort's reign, he had no problem using it. But now, where his entire life was in jeopardy if he returned, the use of his name was like a death wish.

"And why are you telling me about the Mirror?"

"I thought you may want to help protect it. To your own advantage, of course. You will be permitted to use it as frequently as you wish."

The offer was so tempting. So incredibly tempting. "What kind of security is the Stone under?" he inquired, knowing that he would need to be able to get through the protection to use the Mirror.

"Too much to discuss here. I can have the professors who have put together each level instruct you on how to get through. I'd also appreciate if you could add an extra layer of protection?"

"Whatever you need. Who am I to talk to about getting through?"

"Talk to Rubeus Hagrid, the Groundkeeper, first. You'll also need to talk to Pomona Sprout and Filius Flitwick." With a smile, he added. "You may also want to stop by the Quidditch Pitch or Madam Hooch's office. She'll have some valuable information."

Severus couldn't help a slight growl. He had no intentions of running all over school grounds today. "Can't you simply tell me the levels and I can find out how to get past them on my own? It sounds much easier that way."

Albus gave a sly smile, causing Severus to wonder what was really going on here. "Well. Since it's just between you and me, there's a three-headed dog, a Devil's Snare, a round of Wizard Chess, and a bit of flight involved."

_Is this man insane? How does he expect flight and Wizard Chess to protect such a high-security item? _he asked himself. _A child could beat Wizard Chess by simply guessing. And anything you can fly to get, you can obtain some other way, I'm sure. _"Thank you, Headmaster. I think I'll be off now."


	7. Chapter 7: Study

A/N: Sorry it's been so long. Had some crazy stuff going on. Graduation, college application, scouting for dorm furniture, packing up. You know, all that good stuff. I'm in a sort of writing mood, though, so expect more updates and stuff. Also, I got my own laptop, so I will be able to upload chapters more frequently. It's so much easier to write the chapters and save them directly to my lappy and then upload them instead of writing them on an old Alphasmart, upload them to my ancient computer, transfer them to my flash drive, put it on a computer with internet, and then upload it =_=

And, I used to upload these chapters to deviantART and stuff, too, but editing chapters for deviantART is a royal pain in my ass. It'll probably just stay on here. I keep hearing about some Ashwinder place, maybe I'll check that out. 

Chapter 7: Study

The first thing Severus did upon receiving his information was head to his classroom. For each class, he assigned an essay that was to extend across several roles of parchment about the usefulness of Boomslang skin according to whether it was powdered or made into a paste. He then pre-emptively assigned detention with Filch for a week to his most troublesome students, and handed his classes off to his temporary substitute, who was completely incompetent.

Now he hurried to the third-floor corridor. He did not move out of the way for any students, merely strode in a straight line down the middle of the hall. It was not a problem, as they scattered before they neared him anyway.

He reached the third-floor corridor without any problems and entered silently. He came upon the statue of the oddly hideous witch that had been here since even he attended Hogwarts. He remembered when History of Magic used to be taught on this floor. Now, the corridor was vacant and dank. Cobwebs clung to every corner for life-support. Dust had settled down to make a new home here.

Even his dungeons were nowhere near as filthy.

From somewhere to his right, he could just barely hear what sounded like breathing. Snoring, almost. He glanced in that direction, seeing a door with a hefty wrought-iron handle. It appeared highly unused. He tread quietly over the grimy floors, listening intensely as he neared the door. He had been warned of a three-headed dog. It sounded like it was sleeping.

He tried the handle to find it locked. Of course it was locked. "_Alohomora._" The door clicked open and Severus was slightly surprised. Something that was so important, so "heavily guarded" was behind a door with no wards, a door that any student could open? Disappointed, he entered the room.

The room was small. No, no. On the contrary, the room was quite large. It was simply occupied by this enormous Cerberus, making it appear quite tiny and cramped.

There was a soft whistling noise; the flute being played reached his ears at about the same time he caught sight of the ruddy half-giant.

"Oh, Profess'r!" Hagrid said as he saw Severus emerge from the doorway. "What might you be doin' here? Did the Headmaster send ya?"

Severus nodded in response. "May I ask what in the world you are doing?" he said flatly.

"Oh, y'see, Fluffy here loves a good tune ev'ry now 'n then. Puts 'im right to sleep! A dog's gotta sleep sometimes, ya know." Hagrid smiled, holding up the flute.

Severus nodded once more, slowly. "And what happens when the music stops?"

"Well, he wakes up, o'course," Hagrid said matter-of-factly.

As if in response to this question, the beast snorted loudly and lifted one of its giant heads. Then the next one lifted, and finally, the beast was glancing around the room with all three heads. Upon seeing the unfamiliar Potions Master, its lips peeled back in a snarl. A low, rumbling growl emitted from its throats, and Hagrid glanced up.

"Are you needin' to go down to th' stone, Profess'r?" he asked, holding up the flute.

"Yes." Without waiting for an answer, he snatched the flute from the giant, but refused to put that instrument to his lips. He set it levitating in the air with the wave of his wand, and let it play itself.

The dog promptly collapsed into sleep once more, causing the floor to rattle. He caught a glimpse of the trap door underneath one of the paws.

"Oh, lemme get that fer ya, Profess'r," Hagrid said, lifting the Cerberus' paw out of the way.

"I could have done it myself, you oaf," Severus sneered, opening the door.

Hagrid couldn't help but chuckle. He had grown used to the Potions Master's crankiness. "Well, down you go!" he said, which was countered with a look of confusion from Severus.

"How am I meant to—"

"Jump, o'course!" Hagrid replied joyfully.

"What?" he asked, but before he could ask for more clarification of what was down there, Hagrid lifted him up and dropped him down the hole.

Severus yelped in surprise, but found to be what he landed on to be somewhat soft. Whatever was under him felt like tense rope, but it was better than solid brick floor.

It was too dark for him to see anything, but it appeared as if the walls were… moving.

"_Lumos,_" he uttered, lighting up the room a bit more.

And as if on cue, the rope-like substance began to wrap around his legs.

Startled, his first instinct was to get the things off of him. "_Relashio!_" Nothing happened.

But as he studied the walls and floor, he realised what this was. Devil's Snare. Just like Albus had said. He never would have guess that there was really Devil's Snare in the school. The tentacle-like vines were very valuable potion ingredients. He would have to ask for permission to take some when its protection was no longer needed, if ever.

He closed his eyes, leaning back and relaxing. It actually wasn't such an unpleasant experience if you could just relax. It was much like a massage.

And then he fell through.

He landed with a sharp crack on the brick floor below, grimacing and touching his head tenderly where it had collided with it.

There was a soft buzzing noise ahead of him. He wondered what possibly could lie ahead. Surely that noise had nothing to do with chess or flying.

He got to his feet and stiffly made his way into the room ahead.

Keys. Hundreds of winged keys flew about the room. He assumed one of them had to open the door ahead.

For some reason, this room felt very familiar to him. It was tall, very tall, and quite long as well. It was darker than he had remembered, but then again, even when he had been in here before, it had fallen into disuse. Now it was simply filled with keys, but still coated in a thick layer of dust.

This was the study Lucius had shown him back in third year. Lucius had been a seventh year, and he knew all about the history of the school thanks to his family. This study once belonged to two people Lucius had been known to idolise. Salazar Slytherin, and the former Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black. Lucius was related to Phineas, of course, and knew that he was the only Headmaster to have his office other than where it was currently located. Now it appeared that the door they had used to get in when he was a child was completely gone. There was only one door left, and he hadn't recalled it being there before.

Now his eyes fell upon the broomstick. There was no way in hell he would mount that broom and catch whichever key happened to open that door. Never.

It looked like the time to visit his old friend Lucius again. Perhaps not quite so soon after last night's incident, but soon. It was time to learn all of the secrets this room had to offer. 

This chapter was pretty much pulled out of nowhere in my head. I've always really loved the look of the key room, in the movies, the first game, and LEGO Harry Potter. I figured, "Wow, a room that big in the castle had to belong to someone important." And when I got to writing the key room, I just randomly pulled it out of my hat that Phineas Black would have wanted to be different. He's such an oddball.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N

I'm so sorry for the long wait, everyone. I'm going to be moving to a new account. /~nomorestars

Crazy things have happened. I started college, failed my first semester, met the love of my life, decided I would drop out at the end of second semester, planned a future, the love of my life dumped me, lost those future plans, and then was kicked out of my house. I'm living in the dorms but by the end of the summer I could very well be in a homeless shelter, and without internet access. Until then, between trying to sell things on Etsy and trying to find a job, I will try to update.

I will be taking the following stories with me, re-beta them, and re-post them (but will leave their unedited versions here).

-Obsidian Fire  
-Revisited, Replaced  
-The Fairest One of All

You may see chapters missing, edited, or rearranged, particularly with The Fairest One of All. I suggest rereading and please, reviewing again c:

Thank you so much for everyone who has stuck with me this far.

-Sky


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